


A Mall Confusion

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you don't know... ask!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mall Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in Advocate's Deli #1, Leyla Harding editor, and reprinted in Green Floating Weirdness #17 both under the pen name Gillian Holt.

_"But where would we put them?"_

 

Lieutenant Colonel Paul Ironhorse knew he wasn't going to like this mission, and he was right.  Malls.  Whoever had invented the damn things should be taken out and shot, he decided.  They were so… crowded.  Noisy.  Cluttered.  Disorganized.  Old people shuffling along with their bumper carts, families surging this way and that, and teenagers all over the place.  Not to mention a few individuals the Special Forces officer was sure must be aliens from some planet whose population had extremely bad taste in hair color and clothing styles.  And there were the women who stared at him, smiling and whispering.  What could they possibly be saying about him?  Didn't he have as much right to be there as the next guy?  He sighed and forced himself to keep up with the others.

Catching sight of the seven Omegans as they shifted in and out of his peripheral vision put him more at ease.  At least he had some backup in case of trouble.  And around Harrison Blackwood, there was almost always trouble.  If Blackwood and Drake hadn't insisted on tagging along with Suzanne and Debi, he wouldn't have had to come. The Omegans could have easily taken care of security for the microbiologist and her daughter.  Suzanne was alert and cautious, unlike a certain astrophysicist or computer hacker the officer knew.  And now, after three hours of shopping, Ironhorse was more than ready to leave behind the crowds, the noise, the looks, and the nearly unending harassment Blackwood and Drake had been dishing out.

Ironhorse wanted to go back to the Cottage.  He wanted to escape into his quiet, isolated office and pore over the reports he was sure would be multiplying while he was away.  And, to top it all off, he'd had to watch Suzanne, Debi, and even Sergeant Coleman, normally three very rational people, literally beam with delight over a piece of clothing.  It was unfathomable.  It was irrational.  It wasn't even normal as far as the Colonel was concerned, but it did seem S.O.P. for women. No wonder he didn't understand them.

Of course the Colonel, Norton, and Blackwood had also acquired several bags of mall-plunder of their own, as had each of the Omegans who were along as security.  After all, they didn't have an opportunity to shop very often in their line of work and the Colonel and the soldiers were all short in the civilian wardrobe department.  Ironhorse had to admit that there was a lot to pick from, so much so, in fact, that Stravakos and Alverez had been sent back to the vehicles with the hordes of plastic bags twice.  However, most of the haul was for Debi.

The thirteen-year-old would be starting high school in September, and Suzanne had decided that the government owed her daughter a new wardrobe for the occasion.  And then there was all that time over the summer before school started that required the necessary outfits.

And, since it was for Debi, the Colonel steeled his opinions and continued along, wishing they'd run out of steam.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Norton announced when he spotted the food pavilion, which took up one end of the mall.

"Great idea," Blackwood enthused.  "They have this unique vegetarian place here that—"

"Can I get a giro, mom?"

"Sure, Chicken."

The Colonel cleared his throat, apprehending their attention before they fractured off and got lost in the crowds.  "People, maybe we should eat back at the Cottage."

"But that's over an hour drive, big guy.  I don't think I can last that long," Norton warned.

"I _know_ I can't," Suzanne said.  "Come on, Paul.  They have a huge selection of places to pick from; I'm sure you can find something."

"That's not what I was concerned about, Suzanne."  He signaled the Omegans to join them.  "All right, people.  We're eating here.  I want you to break up and accompany the doctors and Mr. Drake."

Seven heads nodded.

"It's the Jamaican Pirate for me," Drake said, wheeling off in that direction, Goodson and Stein following him with hungry looks on their faces.

Blackwood nodded to the remaining soldiers – all of whom were dressed in jeans and T-shirts so they blended in with the civilians.  "Anyone interested in veggies?"

"I think I'll have a salad," Coleman replied cordially.

"Are you really armed, Sergeant?" Blackwood asked as they headed off, arm in arm.  Private Harker followed them.

"Always, Doctor."

"I was afraid of that…"

"Mom, giros?"

"Giros it is.  Sounds good to me, too."  The pair left the Colonel alone to make his own choice, Stravakos and Pappas following closely, debating beef versus lamb fillings.

"They do have plain old hamburgers here, don't they?" Ironhorse asked distractedly, trying to keep all the Project members in sight, and finding it impossible.

Derriman grinned.  He doubted the Colonel had been in many malls, and probably hadn't eaten in any of them if he could avoid it.  "Sure do, Colonel.  Follow me."

"I hate this, I really do."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They converged again in the center of the pavilion where numerous plastic picnic tables were scattered around, the Omegans gathering in small groups of twos or threes, leaving the Project members and the Colonel in privacy nearby.  Ironhorse was pleasantly surprised to find his Wild-Waco Burger above average, and he did his best to concentrate on the meal, not Blackwood's intermittent commentary on the sins of a carnivorous dietary habit.  He also ignored Suzanne and Debi's debate over spandex miniskirts, and Norton and Harrison's discussion of mall-life – the pair inventing various genus and species names for the people who shared the pavilion with them.

By the time they were finished, even Ironhorse was in a better mood.  The food had been good, the company comfortable, and the conversation had turned to more interesting sharings of everyone's favorite mall stories.

Norton started the sequence with an exaggerated tale of woe, describing his first trip into a stateside multi-level mall, during which he got lost, collided with a old lady's two-wheeled cart, and was kidnapped by three ten-year-olds who wanted him to play dragster.

Suzanne picked up the torch, explaining how her ex-husband had lost Debi in a mall when the girl was two and a half.  Debi, to occupy her time until daddy came back, promptly shanghaied a small boy away from his mother, and the pair set off on their own adventure.  Cash and Suzanne finally found the children, playing "seahorses" in the shallow fountain just outside the department store, surrounded by onlookers who were enjoying the spectacle.

Somewhat embarrassed, Debi retaliated by revealing, in great detail, the time when her mother had ended up in a scientists’ fashion show, put on at a mall in Ohio.  It was all to raise money for the scholarship fund at Ohio Poly Tech.  Suzanne had been chosen to model lingerie for the "research-oriented."  Several of her male graduate research assistants had come away with a new image of their boss that afternoon.

After ducking Suzanne's thrown napkin in response to Harrison's question concerning her research methods, the astrophysicist took great pleasure in relating the saga of his and Ironhorse's battles in the mall at Christmas, lingering over the Colonel's encounter and subsequent defeat by an old woman who wanted the same sweater the soldier had.  The tale had them all hooting, much to the soldier's embarrassment.

"Don't you have a story, Colonel?" Debi asked, when they all looked to Ironhorse for his contribution and were met by two arched eyebrows.

"I don't think so, Debi.  I'm not… overly acquainted with malls."

"Really?"

"Let's just say, I'm used to doing my shopping in a base PX."

"Oh, come on, Paul, you must have been in a few malls.  Nothing funny has ever happened to you?" Suzanne encouraged.  "Besides getting whacked by an umbrella-wielding grandmother, of course."

"Suzanne, until I met you people, you couldn't have paid me to go shopping in a mall."

"That's weird," Debi said, the perplexed look on her face prompting chuckles from the adults.

"Yes, Debi, the Colonel's very… weird," Harrison agreed.

The Colonel's brows rose higher.  "Well, Debi, maybe it is.  But you have to remember, I was used to traveling and— That reminds me, I think I do have a story for you."

"I can't wait," Norton said with a grin, the expression on the Colonel's face telling him it was going to be a good one.

"It was the same trip as my, uh, encounter, with that woman.  Since Blackwood had dragged me to the mall to Christmas shop, I thought I'd see if I could find Debi a few books—"

"They were great, too," she interrupted.

"I'm glad you enjoyed them," Ironhorse said, a hint of pride shining in his eyes.  "So, while I was looking through the section on Indians, the Doctor here wanders off to who knows where."

"I went to the science-fiction section," Blackwood grunted.

"I was getting to that," Ironhorse said.  "I picked out the books, looked around, and no Blackwood.  But I could hear a commotion coming from the back of the store, so naturally I thought that's where he was."

"Now just a minute, Colonel, since—?"

"Harrison, Paul didn't interrupt your story, so keep quiet and let us enjoy this," Suzanne told the astrophysicist.

"What happened next, big guy?"

"I found the good doctor here, back in the science fiction section, engaged in a rather loud disagreement with another patron."

"Colonel—"

"Shh, Harrison," Suzanne scolded.

"From what I could gather, listening to this ever-increasing verbal contest, the two of them were having a disagreement over the nature of a certain Vulcan science officer versus an android science officer."

"Oh?" Suzanne said, her smile widening.  Harrison was just like a little kid at times.

"Who was winning?" Norton asked, ignoring the glare that Blackwood leveled on him.

"The other guy," the Colonel supplied, the crooked grin on his face telling them there was more to the story than he was letting on.

"Gee, Harrison, I thought you said your argument for Mr. Spock being a more philosophical construction was good enough to convince anyone," Debi said.  "But I still think Data's cuter."

"It is, Debi," Blackwood assured her.  "It's just that _this_ particular individual was _incapable_ of understanding the more elegant points I was making."

"Yeah, probably because he was only nine," Ironhorse finished.

"Nine?  Oh, Harrison."

"Suzanne—"

"That kid was smarter than you think, Blackwood."

"How's that, Colonel?"

" _He_ got _you_ thrown out."

The burst of laughter from the table startled the Omegans, each of them wondering what it was that had set the Project members off.  Whatever it was, it appeared that Dr. Blackwood had been on the receiving end.

Harrison shook his head and allowed himself a thin smile.  "I guess I did deserve that after telling them about the umbrella-wielding granny."

"You damn-well better believe you did, mister," the Colonel said, but the crooked grin spoiled the effect.

The five lapsed into a comfortable silence that left the Colonel unprepared for the next comment.

"Hey, can we get some Penguins?" Debi asked.

Ironhorse's brows snapped up.  "Excuse me?"

"That sounds like a great idea, Debi," Blackwood said.

Norton and Suzanne nodded.

"But where would we put them?" the soldier asked, keeping a tight rein on his rapidly growing concern.  They didn't have time for pets, especially exotic ones.

"Oh, I'm sure we have room," Suzanne replied.  "There's _always_ room for Penguins."

"Yeah, Penguins are great!"

"I'm sure they are, but—"

"Come on, Colonel, don't you like Penguins?" the girl asked, her happy expression beginning to deteriorate.

"I don't have anything against them personally, Debi, but—"

"Then what's the problem?" Drake asked.  "Let's go pick some out."

"Cool, dude!" Debi enthused.

"Cool is right," Ironhorse muttered.  "Where the hell can you buy penguins here?"

Blackwood slapped the officer's back.  "That's the beauty of malls, Colonel.  They have everything!"

"I guess so," Ironhorse said.  The General was never going to let him live this one down… penguins?  Of all the crazy things.

"And they're even reasonably priced, unlike—"

"Reasonably priced?" Ironhorse interrupted.  How much would a penguin cost?  More importantly, how was he going to explain _that_ in his budget report?

"Colonel, have you ever eaten Penguins?" Debi asked seriously, feeling just a little sorry for the man.

Ironhorse's eyes grew wide.  "No, no, I can't say as I have, Debi.  Have you?"

"Of course.  Lots of times.  They're great," the teen said.  "You'll love 'em.  I promise."

"Umm," Suzanne concurred, her expression telling the soldier she felt the same way.

_They're going to go buy penguins… and eat them?  I thought they were an endangered species.  These people are weird!_

"I want one with a fancy topping," Debi announced.

"I think I'll stick with a plain one," Suzanne added.

 _Well, I guess they do come in different types_ , Ironhorse thought, trying to recall the _National Geographic_ special Debi had watched several months ago.

"Are they still blending them?" Norton asked.

Ironhorse blanched.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Blackwood asked.

"Fine, Doctor."

"I think so," Debi supplied.  "I hope they have some good flavors.  I want a white-chocolate raspberry-truffle with raspberry topping and chocolate sprinkles."

"Flavors?" Ironhorse asked, the entire conversation shifting in his mind.  "We're talking ice cream here, people?"

"Frogurt, Colonel," Blackwood corrected.  "Is there a problem?"

The Special Forces officer sighed heavily, muttering, "Grandfather, give me strength."

"What was that, Paul?"

"Nothing, Suzanne.  But just what do they make this _frog_ urt out of anyway?"


End file.
